Trigger Finger
by Phx
Summary: Spoilers for 7.01 and 7.02. Part 1 and 2. Nothing is simple anymore and Hell weaves threads through everything. Even a burger run.
1. Chapter 1

_Spoilers for 7.01 and 7.02. Part 1 of 2_

_Missing scene(s) from 7.01: Dean is still working on the Impala; Cas is still God; Bobby still wears a hat… and Sam is still halfway sane._

_Warnings: language._

**Trigger Finger**

**Part 1**

"_Hey, Dean."_

Sam's voice sounded odd on the phone and Dean frowned. "Sam?" Sam had gone into town to grab some burgers for Dean and Bobby as they continued the arduous task of restoring the Impala. Again… "Where the hell are you?" That was over two hours ago. "We're starved!"

"_Uh, yeah… about that…"_

Dean scowled. "And why are you calling on _this_ phone?" He'd just come inside to grab a couple bottles of beer when the phone in the kitchen had rang.

"_Can you get Bobby?"_

"Bobby? What do you need Bobby for?" Affronted, he snorted. "You know he likes his burgers with everything on it."

"_Dean, please – I don't have much time…"_

"Did I hear the phone?" the screen door banged behind Bobby as the older hunter strode into the kitchen.

Dean glared as he held out the phone. "It's for you."

Bobby returned his glare and snatched the phone. "Who pissed in your Corn Flakes? Bobby here."

"Didn't have Corn Flakes," Dean grumbled but refused to move from where he was standing, determined to know what all this cloak and dagger crap was about. He listened to Bobby's side of the conversation feeling even more perturbed; his normally loud brother was speaking too quietly for him to properly overhear.

"Sam...? Yeah… – _what?_You're_where?_"

Dean's heart jumped. That was not Bobby's happy voice. "What?" he demanded trying to grab the phone back but Bobby body checked him to the side. "What's wrong?

"No. No… just sit tight. I'll be right down." Hanging up the phone, Bobby scrubbed a hand down his face. "That was Sam."

"No shit Sherlock," Dean's heart was pounding now. He ignored the look Bobby gave him. "Where is he?"

Bobby grabbed his truck keys and started towards the door. "Get ready for this one… Your dumbass brother is in jail."

Dean stared numbly at the other man. He shook his head. "Nuh uh, that ain't right. Sam went for burgers…that's all."

"Yeah, well unless the lovely Sheriff has started a take-out service, I don't think Sam is there for the food. Whoa, where the hell do you think you're going?" Bobby stopped him at the door.

"With you."

Dean stated the obvious but Bobby shook his head. "No, Dean. Sam expressly said for you NOT to come down there. Stay here – we'll be back as soon as we can."

And then Bobby was gone before Dean could do more than open his mouth to protest.

* * *

><p>It was another three hours before Sam and Bobby got back to the house.<p>

"Jail, Sam?" Dean rounded on Sam even before the kid got out of the truck. "What the hell happened?" He ran appraising eyes over his brother as Sam stood, zeroing in on the fresh bandage on his brother's hand. Before Sam could answer he demanded. "Are you okay?" And then, "I never should have let you go by yourself!"

"Whoa, take it easy, boy," Bobby slammed the truck door shut and came to stand between the brothers. "Give your brother a chance to say something first before you have the entire conversation by yourself!"

Sam was quietly studying Dean's boots, but other than a new bandage on a mostly healed hand, the kid looked fine. A bit tired maybe but who wasn't these days?

"Sam?" Dean pressed, his worry retching up a notch. "Sammy?"

"It's nothing, all right? I just, well, I just got into a fight and someone called the sheriff…"

"At the burger joint?" Dean stared in disbelief. "What happened? Someone take the last tomato or something?"

"Like I said, it's nothing."

Sam tried to push past his brother to go inside but Dean stopped him with a hand against his chest.

"Dean…"

"Don't _Dean_ me – last I looked you're not the scrappy Winchester so what the hell, Sam? It takes talent to get tossed in jail on a burger run!"

Sam smiled tiredly as he glanced up at Dean. "The _scrappy_ Winchester?"

"Sam…" Dean growled and his brother held up his hands in supplication.

"Okay. Okay. Look – like I said, it really was nothing… Guy just pissed me off with his attitude. He gave me a shove, I shoved back and things went sideways from there."

Dean considered that for a long moment. Something was up with his brother that much was for sure. He'd have to be stupid not to have noticed how jumpy that kid was but Dean wasn't willing to push, yet. They'd already dodged a bullet as far as he was concerned when it came to Sam so with a heavy sigh he dropped it, gave a slight nod and turned his attention to Bobby. "Damage control?"

"Already taken care of. Sheriff Mills figures that after the zombie fiasco, Sam was owed one get out of jail card free card – and well, he just used it. Oh, and he's not allowed to come into town for the next month."

"And the guy Sam laid out?" Dean knew the locals, most of them soft and white, so there was no way his brother hadn't won that fight, especially if a new bandage was all Sam walked away with. "He's not pressing charges?"

Bobby lifted his hat as he scratched his head. "Nope – 'cording to witnesses, Sam didn't throw the first punch so, like your brother, the fella'll just cooled his heels for a couple of hours in the tank, then got sent home."

"Has he got a town restriction on him too?" although Dean highly doubted it.

Sam mumbled something about going inside to lie down for a bit and Dean let him go.

"Nope," Bobby repeated watching Sam, a frown pulling down on his mouth. "But since Sam busted the poor bugger's jaw and dislocated his shoulder, I don't think it was about favouritism."

"Whoa – what?" Dean's jaw dropped. "You kidding me?"

Bobby scowled. "Does this look like my kidding face to you? Not sure what exactly the guy said that got Sam so riled but I'm sure the fella's doing a lot of rethinking right now. Jessie Hughes – the kid working the counter at the burger joint – called it 'cool'. Said he's never seen anyone take someone out like Sam did… Had the guy pissing his pants on the ground crying in seconds."

"Shit," Dean breathed out, his attention on the house now, staring at it as if he could see his brother inside.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "Pretty much. Look Dean – I know we don't want to go looking the gift horse in the mouth and all, but I'm getting worried here. That ain't like Sam and I just don't know…"

The muscle in Dean's jaw ticked. He knew what this was about. Bobby was still hanging on to his anger over soul-less Sam trying to kill him. "Look if you don't want us staying here – just say the word-"

"Don't be an idjit," Bobby snorted. "I'm just saying we need to keep a better eye on your brother… I ain't keen on losing him again so soon after we just got him back."

Embarrassment coloured Dean's ears, of course Bobby wasn't carrying a grudge. Dean still wasn't used to someone else caring about Sam _almost_ the way he did. "Sorry."

Bobby rolled his eyes and started towards the house. "Just get me a beer and we'll call it a do-over."

Dean flashed a grin. "Done." He fell in place next to Bobby. "He bust open my stitch job?"

"On that bozos' jaw apparently. Paramedics redid 'em and gave him a shot of antibiotics but I'm sure he'll let you look if you ask really nice and say 'pretty please'," Bobby teased as he led the way into the kitchen.

"I don't think that will be necessary," even if Dean did intend on taking a look later. Striding towards the fridge, he grabbed two beers and gave one to Bobby. His stomach growled. "So, what you're really saying then is that Sam didn't get us any burgers."

Bobby chuckled, "And people say you aren't the bright one."

"Hey," Dean feigned indignation then shrugged and checked out the living room to see Sam stretched out on the couch.

"Something wrong with his bed upstairs?" Bobby asked quietly from the doorway. "You short sheeting it again?"

Dean shook his head as he just stared down at his brother. There was no way that Bobby's couch could be comfortable for Sam and it was just another thing Dean had noticed over the past couple of days: Sam wouldn't go to sleep upstairs unless Dean had already gone. There was significance there but Dean wasn't ready to look too closely at it yet. Hey, if his brother wanted to pretzel himself up on Bobby's couch, who was he to question it? Not like he didn't mind being able to see Sam anyway… nope, not co-dependent at all.

Reaching for the blanket off the back of the couch, Dean spread it over his brother and then stepped back. "I'll get him up when I'm ready to call it a night," he decided as he joined Bobby back in the kitchen and started to make a couple of sandwiches.

Bobby grunted something about 'mother hens' but Dean ignored him as he finished making two sandwiches in silence before handing off one to the older man. Sighing heavily, Dean sat down at the table and swallowed down the bread and meat with the bottle of beer. He steadfastly refused to think about rogue god-angels or broken little brothers and focused on what he needed to do in the morning, starting with making a quick run to the post office to see if any packages came in.

And if he happened to inquire around about a particular fight in the burger joint the night before…?

Well, it wasn't about lack of trust this time.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Spoilers for 7.02 _

_Missing scene(s) from 7.02: They have just changed the dressing on Sam's hand and now know what hell Sam has been living through. Bobby has just left the room to go fix the car._

_Warnings: language, insinuation of past non-con while in hell (not graphic)_

_Thank you, Trasan, for your input on this!_

**Trigger Finger**

Part 2

"Wow," Dean had no idea what to say to that. "Just wow." Moving slowly towards Sam like his brother was a skittish horse, Dean was relieved that Bobby had left. The older man had obviously realized that what Sam needed right now was something only Dean could give him.

It amazed him (and hurt) that a childless man understood things about them that their own father never had.

Sam watched him carefully, the intensity of his gaze silently begging Dean to say something, to fix this – to find the concrete that would ground Sam in Dean's reality… and it killed Dean that he had no idea how. His brother was losing his mind – what weapon in their arsenal could fight that?

So instead he sat down next to his brother, thigh pressed hard against thigh, and waited the kid out knowing Sam had more to say.

After a few moments, Sam took in a shaky breath, dropped his gaze to his hands and spoke so quietly that Dean found himself holding his breath to listen. "He came up behind me – the guy the other night…"

Dean stiffened. He knew exactly what his brother was talking about.

"Leaned in and…"

Sam swallowed hard and Dean could feel the fine tremors running through his brother's body. He wanted to say something but was afraid of scaring Sam off. After doing some of his own reconnaissance about Sam's burger brawl, Dean had his own ideas on what the creep might have said that triggered his brother.

"… and said I had a nice ass…"

Dean let out his breath slowly. Yeah… that was what he was sort of expecting. The guy was the town leech. Apparently bisexual, he hit on attractive brunettes with long legs – Sam fit the bill… not that Dean thought his brother was attractive. Just, yuck. But according to the day shift supervisor at Beefy's Burger Barn, _Jeff_ was also crass and didn't take rejection well.

"What did you say?" Dean asked, carefully keeping his tone neutral.

"Told him I didn't, uh, swing that way-" Sam's gaze swung wildly to the side and he flinched.

Anger bubbled through his chest as Dean had no doubts what kind of comment 'Lucifer' had just made. "Hey," he barked at his brother forcing Sam's attention back on him. "And you still don't. No matter what that _a-hole_ just said!"

"Dean…" Sam started to protest.

There was a sadness on his brother's face that rippled something feral inside of Dean. He shifted so he could better look at his brother. "Sam," he growled but Sam cut him off.

Pushing to his feet, Sam stood in front of Dean, his hands held out wide on either side of his body, tears christening his face. "I was his… _bitch_ for over a hundred years, Dean! His _bunk-mate_! His – his-"

Dean was also on his feet now and grabbed his brother's shoulders, giving the kid a shake. "Shut up, Sam! Shut up!"

"- _spoon_!"

"That doesn't mean anything. It means _nothing!_"

Again Sam looked to the side and again Dean shook him. "Look at me, Sam. Only at me!"

Sam deflated, his body crumbling to the floor and Dean went down with him, refusing to let his brother go.

"How can you say it means _nothing?_ That guy took one look at me and knew what I was! And he wouldn't go away – I told him no and he kept saying things and I kept saying no and – and he got pissed and _touched_ me… _shoved_ me and it was like – I don't know, I was right back there in the pit…" his broken brother whispered, eyes wet, lips trembling. "Dean, I don't remember anything until the cops where there… so how can you say that? That it means _nothing_?"

"Because." Dean reached out and gently cupped his brother's chin, "You're here now. With me. And that is the only thing that matters, Sammy. _The. Only. Thing_. That guy? He got what he deserved. The second he touched you? Put you back in the _pit_? He's damned lucky I wasn't there… So yeah – nothing else matters but _that_."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, his tormented gaze searching for something in Dean's face. "Do you promise, Dean?" his voice was ragged. "Really promise?"

He tried to look to the side but Dean wouldn't let him. "I promise, Sammy. It's the only thing."

"He won't go away," Sam admitted with a sob, his gaze skittered and still scared. "And he won't _shut_. _Up_."

_Lucifer._ The muscle tightened in Dean's jaw. "We'll find a way, okay? I don't know how yet but we _will_ find a way. I didn't get you back just to lose you again." Dean vowed and he meant it.

Sam finally seemed to accept that for now and gave a grateful little nod, letting Dean help him back up where they both collapsed onto the couch.

"I am sorry about the burgers though," Sam spoke after a moment.

Dean absently patted his brother on the leg, his heart only starting to slow down. All this drama was taking years off his life, he grimaced at the thought. "Blah, s'all right, I got my dead cow served a bit differently, that's all. Sandwiches A la Dean. Yum. Yum."

Exhaustion seemed to weigh down Sam's head as he slowly turned to look at his brother. Dean flashed him what he hoped was a supportive smile but thinks it might have come off a bit stupid looking.

"I thought the beef was bad? Didn't it expire over a week ago?"

"Nothing wrong with expired meat, Sam. Not if you can eat it and live to tell the tale." So maybe he had to make a couple of extra treks to the john that night but that was something he wasn't about to share with anyone. And from the greenish look on Bobby's face the next morning, Dean was pretty sure Bobby was feeling the same.

"Dean!" Sam huffed out the word in fond exasperation. He tipped his gaze to the side again and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Sammy…." Dean growled to get his brother's attention back on him.

"I don't even know why you guys put it back in the fridge," Sam re-focused on him.

"Principle of the matter," Dean wasn't sure either.

They sat like for another few minutes, Dean feeling the pull of a nap – although he had only just gotten up – when Sam spoke again. "Are you okay?"

"Shades of Bobby," Dean gave a soft snort.

"Dean?" Sam obviously didn't know that Dean had already had this conversation with Bobby.

"I'm fine-" he started to say and then sighed and shook his head. Honesty Street had oncoming traffic and his brother didn't deserve his bull-shit right now. "I miss him. Strange, huh? We never really hung out much – tried it a bit but, eh, what can I say? He wasn't you-" he rolled his eyes at the fond look his brother gave him and continued. "But I always knew he was out there, you know? And it mattered. So now, it's really weird. I know he's gone, and I'm still pissed at him but – well I still miss him."

"You know that's how it was when I was at school," Sam's voice took on a faraway tone. "With you and Dad, I mean. We weren't together but…" he looked at Dean as if to gauge the safeness of his reminiscence then continued on when Dean steadily held his gaze. "I knew you were out there and that gave me something, I don't know exactly what, comfort, I guess? And then when Dad died – and then you…" Sam's started to turn away.

Dean gripped his brother's thigh hard for a moment until Sam looked back at him.

"Yeah," Dean assured him. "Something like that. I just really wish we could have saved him." He went on to admit.

And this time, it was Sam who offered him the comfort.

Wrapping still trembling fingers around Dean's wrist, Sam gave a light squeeze. "Me too," he promised. "Me too."

Then Sam's attention shifted to the other side of the room again and Dean wondered what they were going to do.

The End


End file.
